


Kiss of the Devil

by CelesteAntola



Category: Daredevil (TV), The Defenders (Marvel TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-22
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-05-26 23:52:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15012140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelesteAntola/pseuds/CelesteAntola
Summary: One-shot set after Defenders.





	Kiss of the Devil

Slowly, gently, his fingertips trace the soft curve of her arm and she is frozen beneath his touch, her body thrumming with months of repressed desire. Her breath catches in her throat as he reaches her collarbone and his eyebrows raise behind the rim of his glasses… in wonder? In awe? 

She can’t tell, and she doesn’t really care, but she does want to take those glasses off of his face, to remove the barrier he uses to protect himself from the world but shouldn’t... doesn’t... need with her.

His hands cradle the sides of her face, his fingers entwined in the hair at the nape of her neck, his thumbs caressing the fullness of her lips. She is aching to lean in and kiss him and also afraid to move, afraid to break the spell of the moment, afraid to give into the magnetism between them lest it consume them. 

And then his lips are on hers, warm and soft and shy, and her fear dissolves like mist in the morning sun. She answers in turn, pressing gently into the kiss at first, letting him know that she doesn’t mind, and then parts her lips for him, the tip of her tongue skimming his curious mouth with its welcoming warmth. 

His grip in her hair tightens and they step closer together as their kiss deepens, his tongue responding to hers, teasing her lips apart. She savors the taste of him, her heart racing as their breath mingles and their tongues dance. 

She nibbles gently at his bottom lip, eliciting a moan that surprises and arouses her. Confidence surges through her and she reaches up to touch him, her hands following a similar path to his: up his firm arms, around the curve of his shoulders, fingertips playing with the short, soft hair at the back of his collar.

One of his hands falls from her neck, the heat from his palm radiating through her thin dress as it skims down the contours of her back, leaving a trail of electricity in its wake. His hand rests on her hip a moment before pulling her closer to him, his kisses becoming more hungry, more urgent, his hardness pressing against her thigh.

He wants her as much as she wants him.

The thought sends a surge of heat through her that throbs restlessly in the pit of her stomach. The raw intensity of her need startles her and she pulls away from the kiss for a moment. She stares at him breathlessly, taking in the sight of his flushed cheeks, the gleam of moisture on his swollen lips, which move as though still seeking her kiss…

She reaches up suddenly, sliding his glasses from his face, and he startles at first, but then stills and smiles at her, and _God is he beautiful…_

She wonders if she’s ever noticed the way the skin gathers and crinkles around his eyes when he smiles like that… and his eyes… a soft green and so expressive, it’s like she can read his thoughts...

Her breath catches as his fingers tentatively brush her cheek, his eyebrows raising in a silent question, and she realizes he wants to see her, too. She leans into his touch and his face stills, his expression falling into one of wondering concentration as he slowly, thoroughly explores the contours of her face. 

She closes her eyes and savors the gentle stroke of his thumbs across her forehead and down along her cheekbones, his fingers feathering along the line of her jaw until they come to rest behind the curve of her chin. 

He is so tender in his exploration that she thinks her heart might burst, and she can’t help the tiny moan that escapes as he tilts her chin up, tracing her lips with his fingers before leaning in to continue his study with his mouth, kissing her softly, reverently, his hands sliding into her hair again. 

She’s so happy she can’t help smiling against his kiss, having dreamt of this moment for months and finding, to her amazement, that it's better than anything she could have possibly imagined…

He feels her smile and responds in turn, his grin incandescent even in the dim glow of the streetlights, and they laugh in delight, their foreheads resting together as their shared breath warms their skin against the evening chill. 

“Do- do you want to come up?” she whispers, her voice unsteady, her gaze studying his expression intently. 

He inhales sharply at the question and his eyes shift restlessly for a moment, his head tilted to one side. His lips open and close a few times, as though soundlessly trying out different replies to see which feels right. 

She bites at her bottom lip, suddenly afraid to breathe, afraid of his answer, uncertainty gripping at her heart.

Then, he smiles again, and her fears are allayed.

“I would love that,” he breathes, his voice thick with desire.

It takes everything she has not to jump up and down with elation. Instead she settles for a grin, and she takes his hands in her own, and squeezes them gently.

He leans forward for a brief, but tender kiss, and a shiver runs up her spine, her exhalation coming out in a joyous rush.

“You like that,” he remarks, his lips quirking up into a crooked smile. 

She only half-heartedly tries to stifle her giggle. “Excellent deduction, counselor,” she teases.

He laughs and ducks his head abashedly. “I have my moments, Miss Page.”

“Hmm… so it seems,” she murmurs, momentarily at a loss for words, her attention diverted to the tingling of her skin as he delicately traces circles across the back of her hand. She finds herself mesmerized by his touch, simultaneously craving more, yet paralyzed by the sheer pleasure of it. 

Then he pauses and she gasps for air, blinking in surprise as she finds that she’d been holding her breath. 

She feels the warmth of a blush spreading across her cheeks and she gives his hands a quick squeeze before dropping them. She fishes in her purse for a moment, hiding behind the curtain of her hair, trying to find her breath as much as her keys. 

Once she’s successfully recovered both, she lifts her gaze to find him with a dreamy, bemused smile on his face, and her heart skips several beats. 

“Well, shall we?” she breathes, jingling her keys triumphantly. 

“We shall,” he agrees, his hand easily finding her proffered elbow. 

They both stand for a moment, grinning at each other happily and now she’s glad that he can’t see her, because she’s sure she looks like a complete idiot. 

She laughs a little, bringing her free hand up to her mouth, her lips still swollen from their kiss. 

“Care to share, Miss Page?” he asks, his head tilted and a look of curiosity crossing his features. 

She wonders momentarily if he knows just how handsome he looks, and she reaches across to trace the line of his stubbly jaw. 

“Just happy, Mr. Murdock,” she says quietly, drinking in the sight of him before stepping close to him again. “Just very, very happy…”

Her words trail off and she closes her eyes as she leans in to kiss him, hungry for the soft warmth of his mouth on hers again…

And her lips are met with something cool and coarse instead, startling her, her eyes jerking open as she pulls away.

Her heart sinks heavily in her chest as she finds that she’s not on the street outside of her apartment after all, but lying in her own bed, alone. 

Alone and missing him so much it physically hurts.

Tears slowly roll down her cheeks as she curls her body around her pillow, desperately chasing the remnants of the dream ghosting through her mind’s eye, trying to latch on to them, to assuage the pain of his absence just a little longer…

She groans in frustration as the dream evades her and her chest tightens as she fruitlessly fights the tears that are overcoming her. 

“Damn you, Matt,” she sobs into the pillow, helplessly clutching at her sheets, trying to ground herself against the turmoil of her emotions. 

If only she’d convinced him to come up that night, maybe, just maybe things would have been different. 

Maybe he wouldn’t have run into Elektra.

Maybe he would have helped to win Frank’s case and maybe Nelson and Murdock would’ve stayed friends and partners.

Maybe he would have willingly given up the mask for good.

Maybe they would have been together and happy and in love and… 

Maybe… maybe he’d be _alive…_

Alive and curled up beside her, his dark hair feathered against her golden strands on the pillow, their legs twined together beneath the sheets, his arms wrapped around her, pulling her close, his heartbeat thrumming steadily against the warmth of her bare back…

She pulls in a shuddering breath and pushes away those thoughts, those impossible, heartbreaking images that will live in her heart and in her dreams, but never in reality. 

The best she can do is try to forget the precipice of possibility upon which they had once hopefully stood and to face the brutal truth of his death. 

The death that he chose, leaving her and Foggy to mourn him, to mourn what was and what could have been, never knowing whether he knew how much they cared, how much she loved him, how much he was loved. 

Leaving her alone to dream and to ache... to both treasure and to hate that she had ever kissed him...


End file.
